Strike Straight, Strike Hard
by The Pen Vs The Sword
Summary: During a training session, Raphael instructs April on an important aspect of fighting. One-shot. Rated K. Birthday gift for TheAndromedaRose. Based on the 2012 TMNT.


**A/N:** Hello, everyone.

 **Sword:** Whoo! Turtles! I'll go get my mask and bo staff!

 **Pen:** I'll go get a chainsaw and some matches.

 **Sword:** That won't stop a ninja of my skill! *runs off and trips into a weapons rack*

So, this story is one of two gifts for TheAndromedaRose, who loves the series and the characters we'll be using for the story. As always Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and all related material belong to Peter Laird, Kevin Eastman, and Nickelodeon. The story, Sword, and Pen belong to me. Please enjoy.

 **Sword:** *twirls a bo staff and whacks her forehead*

 **Strike Straight, Strike Hard**

April scaled a tree outside the clearing, leaping from branch to branch with all the grace and agility of her months of training. She made the mistake of looking down for only a moment and stumbled on a high branch. She steadied her weight, leaning against the trunk, and keeping the leaves from shaking as much as possible. In the clearing a few trees away, the lone turtle didn't move and his red mask ends fluttered in the slight breeze.

She took a few soft breaths and ran along the branch, balancing on her feet as she had been taught. When she jumped, the branch hardly wiggled, as did the one she landed on. She darted from tree to tree until she was right above her target, watching his left side.

His eyes were closed and his body at peace. He stayed absolutely still, not cocking his head at any sound in the forest. A squirrel scampered through the grass and up a tree, carrying an acorn in its mouth. A bird tweeted from on high. In the distance, through the thicket of trees at the forest's edge, Donnie cranked the van. "Turn it off!" Casey yelled and a moment later he did.

From the farm house, very faint, Mikey called to Leo outside for lunch. "Eat up, bro! April said broth can help you get better. Why not pizza broth?"

She attacked the left side. As she aimed her foot for his head and curled her fist for a follow-up punch, he raised his own arms and blocked the strike. Before she reacted, he had her foot and he swung April around. The forest blurred for a few moments, then zoomed in as he tossed her to the edge of the small clearing.

April landed on her back and a mound of dirt dug into her spine. She raised her head, sinking it deeper into the ground. Raphael stroked his chin, pursing his lips, as he appraised her. She sat up and brushed the leaves off her shirt and jeans. She had been _so close_ that time. Only a while ago, she had been practicing the basics and now the turtles' level seemed more in reach. But every time she believed that, she was tripped up in some new way. Usually by Raphael.

"Not bad," he said, fingering a nonexistent beard. "Very silent. Good aim. But the power needs some work."

"Oh yes, sensei," April said sarcastically. "I think I hit you pretty hard."

"Pretty hard and hard aren't the same," he said. "Donnie hits 'pretty hard,' but I beat him all the time."

"Splinter says you should focus on hitting your target, not on how hard you hit it."

"But he also says when you strike an opponent, you must mean it." That was true. Maybe that was how Raph kept beating her. "Now let's try it again. Come at me."

He turned his back and she rushed him, ducking low. She raised the flat of her palm to his chin. He guarded his face, absorbed the blow, and fell onto his back, pulling her with him. He kicked her up and over and jumped to his feet. "Harder," he said.

Several more throws later and she was still coming at him full force. There was, dare she say, a playful glint in his eyes. He seemed to be enjoying himself, and egged her on to keep coming. _Yeah_ , she thought. He liked this training as much as she did trying to outmatch him.

"Switch." Now he came at her. She blocked his attack, jumped high, and delivered a spin kick. He dodged it and punched at her stomach. She leapt backwards, slid low at his ankles, and missed.

She had improved on keeping up with him, almost matching Donnie's and Mikey's sparring sessions with him. Perhaps this week, she could fill in for Leo so they could restart their three-on-one sparring matches. She was sure Raph wouldn't mind. He was always up for a good fight. And ever since they left New York, they hadn't really been able to have a practice like that.

She caught him off-guard and jammed a kick to his side. But he snatched her foot, twisted her into a spin, and pinned her to the ground with his heel. April groaned and shoved him off. "Maybe I don't have enough muscle yet," she said.

"Nah, muscle isn't it." She raised an eyebrow and he corrected himself. "Not _all_ of it. You need motivation. Something to tap into your inner strength."

"Such as?"

He tapped his chin, running through possibilities. "Pretend you're fighting a Foot," he said.

"I'll try."

Half of a minute later, Raph had her on the ground and stood over her, shaking his head. "Guess you don't have a good imagination."

"Kind of hard to imagine a giant turtle as a robot."

He smirked. "If only your attacks were as sharp as your tongue."

She returned his smirk. "You're starting to sound like Leo."

His eyes hardened. "Woah, now. That's too far." As she stood, he snapped his fingers. "Maybe if I act like Casey?" She sensed that he had almost suggested Donnie, but decided against it. Raphael held up his arms outstretched, walking toward her with a kissy face and smacking his lips.

She giggled and backed into a tree. "Raph, stop it! That's mean!"

"C'mon, Red," he said in his best Casey voice. "Don't you know how I feel about you? You and me can go hang out somewhere alone."

As he closed his eyes, she kicked a little below his belt, pushing him into a root and tripping him. He landed on his shell and looked up at her victorious grin. She brushed her bangs aside and pressed her foot into his chest. "Hard enough for you?"

"First, the root got me," he said. "Second, watch your aim." He adjusted his belt and stood.

"I still think being precise is the key," she said.

"Until you go up against someone strong," he said. "You have to use all your power. You need something to focus on to get you good and angry, get you pumped." She saw a lightbulb appear above his head, but he turned it off and focused elsewhere, running his fingers across his head, puzzling over something.

"Did you think of something?"

"Eh, kind of," he said. "But I don't know if we should do it."

"Why don't you tell me what it is and let me decide that?"

He rubbed his neck and an awkward tingle shot up her spine, a warning that she might not like the answer. "I figure we could use your dad."

She was a little surprised. "I already do," she said. "Every time I fight, I'm fighting for him and New York, like you guys."

"No, that's just for normal fighting," he said. "If you want to draw on all your power, you have to _really_ be fighting for him. Like a controlled rage."

She tilted her head. "Like you."

"Right."

"But without your temper?"

"I hope you're not this disrespectful with Splinter."

"Only with you," she said. But she tossed the idea around back and forth in her head. It couldn't hurt to try and if they wanted to save New York, she would need to give it her all. "Okay," she said. "How do you want to do this?"

"Pretend I'm Shredder," he said.

"You're doing a lot of role-playing today."

A smile flashed and disappeared from his face. "Really, though. Pretend I'm him. Pretend you're fighting Shredder to save your dad. That's he locked up and you have to beat me to rescue him."

"Okay," she said. "I think I can do that."

"Keep that image in your mind." He held his hands to the side of his head and cut them forward, making a tunnel. "Focus on it. I won't hold back, alright?"

"Alright." She did her best to envision him with the steel armor and mask of the Shredder and that they were back in the streets of New York. She bent low to the ground and ran at him, striking low. He jumped and kicked her in the back, knocking her forwards. She leapt backwards and over his head, backhanding him in the process. But when she landed, Raph kneed her and threw her down.

"Is that all you got?" he said in a deep voice. "I expected more fight for your father."

That stung a little, but she shook it off. It was training and it would be much worse when actually fighting. April faked a high kick and swept low, knocking him off his feet. Raph sprung up and into her stomach, bowling her over. "I hardly felt that. It's like you don't even want to save him."

She bared her teeth and rushed Raph, throwing a flurry of punches and kicks. She got in through his blocks a couple of times, hitting his neck and knee. When she exhausted herself, he returned the series of blows and she didn't block as many. Three hard punches to the ribs and one kick to her leg and she toppled over.

"Too bad. Looks like your father is going back to the Kraang."

"No!" she shouted. She tackled Raph and he stood firm as she pushed him back. Visions of Kirby pierced her mind's eye, mutated and under control of the Kraang, smacking the window of their van as they left him behind in New York, with no help in sight. Only the Shredder and the Kraang in control, forcing him to do whatever they wished.

She yelled through a choked sob and lifted him a few inches off the ground. He was too heavy, so she punched Raph's shell as hard as she could. He hissed and she swung again and again, using all her power.

He stumbled and let go of her. She straightened and decked his snout dead-on, then jumped and kicked the side of his head. He fell to his knees, holding his nose and grunting. April lifted her leg high and brought her heel down for his head.

Raph caught her foot and flipped her over. He kept one hand on his nose and held her arms down with his knees. "Whoa! Whoa, April!" he said. "April, calm down!"

She stopped struggling when he removed his hand and saw a large bruise on his snout. An even deeper purple one was forming on his head. She stopped struggling and stared at him, her mouth agape. _I did that?_

After she stopped and Raph was convinced she wasn't a danger, he climbed off her and sniffed, touching his nostrils. "Ugh, I think that's enough for today."

"Yeah," she nodded. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea." She grabbed her chest, pushing against her heart as it hammered against her palm. "Sorry. I've never really lost control like that. Not on purpose."

"It can take a lot out of you," he said, covering his lower face. "Didn't expect you to get that intense."

"How do you manage to not lose control all the time?"

He wiped a trickle from his nose and leaned back, his snout held back to the sky. "Lots of practice," he said in a nasally tone.

She shivered as a stray image of her mutated father ran past her thoughts. "Is it easy then?"

He took a long moment to think and stem his bloody nose. "It gets easier."

April wondered if she had what it took to utilize that kind of strength. It was hard enough thinking about how they had escaped from New York, leaving everyone she knew behind. But to put that at the forefront, stare it down and use it as a support against their enemy? That seemed to be asking too much.

As if he sensed what troubled her, Raph walked over and kneeled down. "You did good," he said, "for your first time. You'll get the hang of it."

Her face lifted a little. "Thanks," she said. "C'mon. We better get your nose looked at."

"I'll be fine," he said, but she spotted a caked patch of blood in his nostril. "I'm hungry though." He helped her up and she fell into him. "You okay?"

"Stood up too fast," she said. "Guess I'm still a little tired."

"Here," he swung her over his shoulders and more blood rushed to her head, making her see stars. "Hang on," he said. April wrapped her arms around his neck and he ran in between and around the trees. She was always surprised how swiftly they moved, despite their bulky size. His shell hardly jostled her around and she almost felt like she was hanging onto a person with how easy she maintained her grip. She figured if he could learn to be so fast and agile, she could learn to draw upon a motivator to increase her strength. For now, she enjoyed the wind rushing across her cheeks and through her hair as Raph carried her back to the house.

 **A/N:** So this is what happens when we have absolutely no idea for any kind of plot. We kind of just went with this as it came along, but thought a look into what a training session between these two would be like.

 **Sword:** I'm gonna train hard and be like that. *twirls bo staff and trips herself*

 **Pen:** Yeah, right, you clod.

We hope you enjoyed it. As always, please let us know and thank you for reading. Happy birthday, TheAndromedaRose!

 **Sword:** *raises bo staff high* Hey, Pen! En garde!


End file.
